


Thoughts of the wise

by MayLovelies



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayLovelies/pseuds/MayLovelies
Summary: Some time after his rebirth in Valinor, Maeglin contemplates on his relationships to those "close" to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Maeglinweek! I've certainly been enjoying it so far!

If Maeglin could forge relationships as easy as he could tools, than things would have been easier in Gondolin. If he had more of his mother’s tendencies, and not his father’s silent personality then perhaps reaching out to his elven kindred would not have been a challenge.

However as Maeglin pondered on it more, he deemed that his silence and reclusive actions hadn’t really anything to do with his failure at making relationships. For he tried at a point but the suspicions of the other elves loomed over him at every given moment. Maeglin was branded by his birth; a brand that rid him of any chance at cultivating true and genuine relationships. And now, years after his rebirth in Valinor,  he finally accepted that.

For even now, he’d faltered at forming relationships. Those who knew him in Gondolin and even before then had tried to approach him and make amends, but he’d cast them all away. His mother and uncle included.

For as he tried to release the grief in his heart, all he could do is reflect  on the relationships he tried to forge but seemed to slip past his hands like molten lava.

He pondered on the relationship with his father and his mother. For while at a point he was led to hold hatred for only one, he felt nothing but bitterness toward both of them. Both raised him well, with the knowledge and love that a parent should have given a child. But both sought to craft him into the image they wanted, never thinking about what was good for him; what he wanted.

Both had a part it ruining his life. His father sought to kill him after his flee from Nan Elmoth; before that threatened to keep him as a prisoner, and deprive him of freedom, while his mother sought to make him ashamed of his inferior heritage and in turn selfishly brought him to a place where he was met with hostility and his freedom was further deprived. After that, Maeglin never truly knew how he felt about his parents, only that as a son he loved them. Yet bitterness was the only thing he felt now, for he had years to reflect on what they’d done to him. And though he was lonely, he was glad to have them out of his life.

His feelings for Turgon were not so different.

When he’d left his father’s realm in the woods he did not expect to be met with more hostility than he’d ever faced in Nan Elmoth. 

But he’d learned to love his uncle, or at least admire him the same way he did his father and mother. For to Maeglin, his uncle was no better than his father, who kept him trapped within the woods of Nan Elmoth. His uncle was no better than his mother, who sought to selfishly eradicated his true heritage from his conscious.

But Turgon taught him what his parents never got the chance to, and for that he was grateful. But yet, he never felt that love and connection for him he wished to. Just as he had not felt it for his parents, and for that Maeglin was saddened.

He could never grow attached to them, no matter how hard he tried.

For his cousin, he felt nothing but hatred for her.

And even his rebirth in Valinor did not change that. Above all, she treated him like he was some type of monster and sought to make him more ashamed of what he was than his mother ever did. And henceforth, spread vile rumors and stories about him.

“In his heart he harbored a darkness, and through his veins the blood of an orc ran cold”—all these lies poured from her vile lips, and it was not long until he heard them in the mouths of others.

Maeglin did not know what he to get her to hate him, other than existing. At a point, given the trauma his young mind had been through, he saw her as a beacon of hope and beauty, and sought to be her friend. She was the cousin his mother had spoken so highly of, and in her Maeglin wished to find a sister he never had, or perhaps the mother he lost…

But oh, how he was deceived by her beauty and her good nature. Yet, it did not surprise him—for his mother had built up the great kingdom of Gondolin in his heart, only for it to fall far from short from her great tales. So why was his cousin any different?

Her ill treatment of him constituted a hatred that he’d never felt before. It was a hatred stronger than that for his father after he’d taken his mother from him, and a hatred darker than what he felt for the very Dark Lord who tortured him.

Maeglin’s only solace was that she nor her husband ever made it back to Valinor. For he hated her husband as much as he did her, and when he heard the story that they were lost at sea, permanently banned from the Grey Heavens, he smiled in delight.

It was what she deserved.

Toward her son, he knew not what to feel. He had never had much of an opinion on the young boy when growing up in Gondolin, though he was weary of him. For he too picked up his mother’s tendencies and spread lies about Maeglin’s upbringing.

However, that was the fault of his mother, and Maeglin already knew how unfair it was to judge a child off of their parent’s actions.

He regretted attempting to murder him, and even if he was not in the right mind he only imagined how much he traumatized the poor boy.

He knew his young cousin had gone on to be a hero, though carried the burden of never seeing his family again. It was no secret that he had departed from his sons early on, so that pain had to be difficult.

Maeglin only wished the best for him in all truth.

And in all truth, the young elf also wished not to form any relations or attachments, if only they were not from the family he was once a part of. Not only his mother’s family, but all of those connected to Finwë; for he feared they’d judge him or treat him with hostility.

He wished to, if possible, find someone who knew not of his past and helped him move toward his future. And if they did happen to know of his past, then disregard what they’d heard and would still join his endeavors. But he wished to eradicate the blood of the Noldor and Sindar from his veins, for never would he find company with that of his blood kin any longer. For the relationships he attempted to forge were of poor taste and result.

Maeglin hoped there would be a day when he would find a new, and meet someone to make him happy without judgement. But until then, he’d remain in these woods, in the thick forests of Valinor for centuries if time allowed him.


End file.
